


Love Undone

by Salmastryon



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memory Alteration, Tony Feels, Vamp!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1500935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmastryon/pseuds/Salmastryon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Tony and Steve are forgetting something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Undone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/gifts).



> Thanks go out to [Memorydragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MemoryDragon/pseuds/MemoryDragon) and Magicasen(aka [Aquamarine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aquamarine/pseuds/aquamarine)) for betaing this. Any errors are my own.

Where the fangs pierced the skin of Tony's neck, there were two bright points of pain. Not the type of pain that made Tony cringe or that he endured with stoic patience--it was a good pain. The pain that came from that sharp jolt when a tense muscle released, the pleasant ache of well exercised muscles, or the spike of agony as a joint snapped back in place. Except, there was no relief from this pain.

 

It made Tony's nerves sing with pleasure and what blood wasn't flowing out the bite was rushing to his groin. There was no urgency to the feeling. Tony was quite content to just lay there languid and placid, held up by two strong arms. All worries, doubts and fears flowed out of Tony, leaving him with a certainty; a warmth that Tony had missed.

 

He was _loved_.

 

Tony panted softly. Overwhelmed, he closed his eyes and felt tears spill down his cheeks. He buried his hand in Steve's short hair while the other curled around the nape of his neck, alternatively gripping and caressing as he encouraged Steve to take his fill. The drain eased as Steve shifted, pulling Tony closer. Tony's eyes opened to gaze blurry eyed at the ceiling. His breathy moans became a whine of displeasure as Steve's jaw relaxed and Steve gently pulled his fangs from Tony's neck, taking with them the shivery feel of a vampire's bite.

 

With a sloppy lick, Steve's bite turned into a messy kiss, slathering saliva all over the wound. Tony's hands shifted to Steve's back and shoulders and he pulled futilely as he tried to lean back, only to be held securely in Steve's embrace. Steve squeezed Tony in a gentle hug and brought a gasp to Tony's lips, before relenting to Tony's coaxing and laid them both down on the bed.

 

With Steve's arms braced at Tony's sides, to keep his weight off Tony, there was nothing to hold Tony still. He arched his head back, exposing more of his throat to Steve. Steve ignored the unspoken invitation and continued to work meticulously at healing the wound. Tony petted Steve's head and tried to coax Steve away from the healing bite. Tony certainly didn't want Steve to stop what he was doing; each lick of Steve's tongue caused delightful shivers that made Tony's toes curl in response, but Tony wanted Steve's mark more.

 

He wanted to be able to reach up and touch it, feel the raised skin of the wound, press fingers against it, and feel the shallow reminder of the joy Steve brought to Tony. He wanted others to see the hickey and to know that he was claimed, that he belonged to someone.

 

Steve paused and sighed against Tony's neck. Goosebumps danced across Tony's damp skin. Steve's arms shifted and he settled on the mattress, pinning Tony, and painting a long line of heavy heat down Tony's left side. A hand came up to pet Tony's head, smoothing his hair back, before Steve firmly gripped it, holding Tony's head still.

 

Steve's lips curled up against Tony's neck as Tony tried to yank his hair from Steve's grasp, knowing his scalp would hurt come morning. Steve gently shook Tony's head. “Stop that.” Steve's voice was muffled as he continued to lick long lines up Tony's throat, paying particular attention to the area around the healing bite.

 

Tony squirmed, trying to get away before the wound was fully healed. Steve's other hand began to stroke smooth gentle lines down Tony's side. With one particular vigorous twist of Tony's hip and a shove to Steve's shoulder, Tony managed to pull himself slightly out from under Steve. The petting stopped and Steve's arm curled around Tony's torso, pulling him back snugly against Steve.

 

Tony laid limply catching his breath. He couldn't help the plaintive tone that edged into his voice as he drew out Steve's name in a long breath. “Steve, I want there to be a mark.”

 

Steve paused on Tony's throat and Tony could feel the shiver than ran down Steve's body, the twitch of Steve's cock against Tony's hip. Hope started to stir, but was dashed as Steve started up again swirling his tongue around the bite then pressing firmly against it.

 

Tony gasped and breathlessly pleaded. “Please.”

 

Steve's thumb moved back and forth against Tony's ribs in a silent apology, but his tongue continued relentlessly. Tony gave up trying to shove Steve away. His arms fell away and he gripped the sheet. Gone was the gentle worship of Steve's tongue; now Steve set on the site of the bite with determination. Short rough licks chased away the last of the dull ache and replaces it with sparks that flooded Tony's nervous system causing uncontrollable little shivers of pleasure to course throughout his body. Tony's eyes fluttered. Everything drew in and down and he felt himself beginning to unwind. He was so close.

 

Then Steve stopped, and all that tension dissipated into tiny shivers and left behind a hot feeling of need that pooled inside him.

 

Tony opened his eyes to glare at the ceiling. Steve was petting his hair, head laid on Tony's shoulder. Tony transferred his glare to Steve's pensive face. Disgruntled with Steve's no orgasm rule, Tony shoved him aside so he could sit up. This time Steve moved easily, rolling onto his back to gaze up at Tony with a mixture of fondness and regret. Tony ran his hand across the damp drying skin of his neck. No pain and no blemish that his fingers could detect. Tony knew that the mirror would show him unmarked skin as well.

 

Tony narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Steve. He was looking entirely too relaxed. Tony didn't get to come, let anyone know or even talk about anything serious. Steve's chuckle wasn't much better when he easily caught the pillow Tony had thrown at his face. Still, Tony's breath hitched at the rare sight of Steve's happy face. Steve's blue eyes were sparkling, a large grin dominated his face and his body quivered with laughter.

 

Steve opened his arms and Tony crawled up to press up against Steve's side. A warm arm pulled Tony closer and Steve twined his left hand with Tony's right, pulling up it to his mouth. Steve pressed tender kisses against Tony's knuckles. Steve might not want to mark Tony as his, but at least Tony had this, the surety of Steve's regard.

 

“Sorry.” There was still laughter in Steve's voice but his eyes were serious.

 

Tony twitched his hips, rubbing against Steve's leg in an attempt to get some relief. Steve's arms tightened in warning. His eyes were grave and his voice firm. “No.” Steve nipped playfully at Tony's hand to soften the sting of the rebuke.

 

Tony sighed and curled further into Steve's side. He missed sex and not being limited to the rare evening together, but if it eliminated the despair that haunted Steve, then Steve got what he wanted. If Steve wanted them both sweaty, aroused and frustrated, then Tony would oblige. Tony grinned, despite the desire to rub against Steve and do something to relieve the aching need to come. He would do anything to make Steve happy because Steve loved Tony. That was all Tony needed.

 

Still, there were things Steve needed to know, even if they conflicted with his rules. Tony steeled himself for Steve's disapproval. “Steve, Stephen--”

 

Tony was flipped violently on his back and Steve's fingers were in his mouth holding his tongue down. Steve looked intensely into Tony's eyes. Tony gazed back into Steve's, which were filled with fear and self-recrimination. “You know better. No talking about work or anything I didn't explicitly tell you.”

 

Tony's eyes rolled and he tried to look contrite. Steve frowned down at him. Tony reached up and stroked Steve's cheek. Steve was ridiculously stubborn about not letting Tony tell him things that Steve deemed Tony's private thoughts and feelings. Normally Tony thought it was endearing, pointless since he was utterly Steve's, but Tony humored Steve's wishes. This time it was something serious and Tony couldn't respect Steve's wishes. Steve really needed to know about the incursions and the longer this dragged on, the worse it would be when Steve finally did regain his memories.

 

Tony gently tugged at the hand in his mouth. Steve's eyes searched Tony's face and then cautiously pulled his fingers out of Tony's mouth. Tony swept Steve's arm to the side, he had only seconds before Steve would quiet him again. “Memo--”

 

Tony's calculations were off, instead it was less than a second before Steve's other hand swooped in. Steve was rougher this time, and Tony glared up at him in frustration. Steve looked back at Tony with haunted eyes.

 

Steve bent down towards Tony until their foreheads touched. “It wasn't supposed to be this way.” There was such sadness in Steve's voice. Tony petted Steve's head and back, helpless against his lover's grief.

 

“You were so strong Tony, so unwilling to bend from what you believe is right.” Steve's voice shook and Tony could feel his own eyes start to tear up at Steve's pain. Tony's words of comfort and reassurance were trapped by Steve's fingers.

 

“You were so confident, you made me believe.” Steve swallowed and continued brokenly. “You promised it wouldn't happen.”

 

Tony gripped Steve's face, trying to communicate to him. He really was okay. Steve's love made everything good and Tony wouldn't leave. He was right here. He was stronger than ever, so don't be sad.

 

Steve pulled his head up and looked down at Tony. The sorrow in Steve's eyes hurt. It weighed heavily on Tony. Those beautiful azure eyes should be full of happiness. Tony couldn't break away his gaze as they bore down upon him. He was the one that put that sadness there.

 

When Tony didn't think he could move anymore, Steve spoke. “Sleep.” His voice was a living thing that crawled inside of Tony curled up around his mind enforcing Steve's will.

 

Steve's fingers removed themselves from Tony's mouth and Tony's eyes began to droop. He struggled against the command. They still had time tonight. An evening together was rare enough. It wasn't fair to end it early. Any other thoughts were taken and muffled before they could go anywhere. Tony managed to grab one thought tightly and hold against the relentless tide of weariness created by Steve's voice. Tony wouldn't leave Steve sad.

 

Tony's voice was nothing more than a hushed mumble, but Tony poured everything into it. “...love you.”

 

Steve fingertip touched Tony's lips. “Shh...” A small fond smile quirked on Steve's lips as Tony's eyes slid shut. “Sleep. I'll take care of you.”

 

Tony stopped fighting.

 

*          *          *

 

Tony rubbed his cheek against the pillow. He was warm and he clutched the pillow not wanting to get up. His body had other ideas in mind. He was hard and as he slowly woke, the pool of lazy desire became more insistent.

 

Tony reached out and touched cool empty sheets. That was wrong. His face scrunched up and he rubbed away the crusted tears as he opened his eyes. There was no one there. His contented peace began to drained away as he realized it had been a dream. Tony tried to grasp at the dredges of the dream, wanting to keep that feeling as long as he could. His thoughts became frantic and his breath quickened as something important slid away, something he needed to remember. He almost caught it, a fragment of a memory, and then it was gone.

 

Tony was left all too awake, hot and hard with an ache for something he couldn't remember.

 

Tony punched his pillow, breathing raggedly. Couldn't his dream lover have stuck around a little longer? It wasn't fair; sexy dreams weren't supposed to leave you wanting and desperate for something you couldn't even remember.

 

Tony started to slide his hand down to take care of the problem himself when it caught on a tear in the sheet. Tony threw off the covers and grumpily got out of bed. He inspected the damage. In his dream, he had apparently gripped the sheet so hard he'd torn it. A shiver of pleasure crawled down his spine at the thought, and his breath caught.

 

Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his dick throbbed. His heart felt empty and it hurt. He wanted... Tony wasn't even sure what he wanted. He cracked open his eyes and glared at the torn sheet. He was going to take this to the shower. He didn't need a figment of his imagination to get off. All he needed was his own hand.

 

*          *          *

 

The dream continued to nag at Tony for the rest of the morning. He found himself stopping and thinking about that torn sheet. There was something about it he was missing. It was just on the edge of his thoughts and yet it remained out of his grasp. It was frustrating and Tony's scalp hurt enough as it was, he didn't need to yank on it.

 

Tony finished off another signature with an angry flourish and noticed Steve entering the room. Steve's hair was wet, probably from his post-training shower. Tony's eyes narrowed appreciatively. Barefoot, in snug jeans and a t-shirt that was painted on, Steve was definitely fodder for a wet dream. After admiring the flex of Steve's ass as he left, Tony turned his attention back to his paperwork. Steve would make a great dream lover.

 

Sadness slammed into Tony out of nowhere and threatened to choke him. His eyes were blurry as he made a note on the proposal in front of him. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He knew there wasn't a chance of anything happening with Steve.

 

Oh, they'd tried, it had taken forever for one of them to finally make a move, but they'd gotten there. For a while, Tony really thought they had something. Tony put the proposal in the 'to be reviewed' pile and started scanning the next one. But, he'd been wrong. In the end, Steve had been kind but firm. Steve cared for Tony only as a friend and wanted to keep things platonic.

 

He thought he was over this. Things had been strained at first between him and Steve, but they were okay now. Wherever that came from, Tony wasn't going to burden Steve with his own inability to let go. Tony savagely buried himself in his work before his thoughts settled into pathetic pining.

 

The piles of processed papers grew and work left to do shrunk. The ebb and flow of it made it easy to block out the rest of the world. It was Steve clearing his throat that finally broke Tony's concentration. He looked up at Steve who was looking down at him with an exasperated smile. Steve was definitely laughing at Tony. “I said, 'Have you eaten yet?'”

 

“Does coffee count?”

 

Steve rolled his eyes and with a firm, “No,” put out a hand offering to pull Tony to his feet.

 

Tony looked at the piles of paperwork he still had to go through.

 

Steve made a grabbing motion with his hand. “Come on, a break to eat won't hurt.”

 

Between paperwork and Steve, Steve always came first. Tony grabbed Steve's hand and let himself be pulled up. Steve didn't let go and headed to the kitchen, leading Tony by the hand like a recalcitrant child.

 

Tony huffed, “I do know where we are going.”

 

Steve squeezed Tony's hand briefly before letting go. “I would expect so. This is your tower after all.”

 

Tony missed the feel of his hand in Steve's, despite his complaining, but followed along without commenting. Tony froze momentarily at the door to gaze nonplussed at the table. Steve had set two places at the dining table. Tony glanced at Steve for a clue, but he was plating food.

 

Tony sat and looked at the place setting, wracking his brain. Had he forgotten something? Was there some special occasion he was unaware of? Steve placed a plate with a large omelet and a generous side of bacon in front of him. This was a lot of work for just friends having brunch.

 

He looked up at Steve, who was heading back to the kitchen. The last time Steve had done something this elaborate for just the two of them, they'd broken up. There was a sinking feeling in Tony's stomach. Tony quickly plastered a grin on his face as Steve came back.

 

“So, what's the occasion?”

 

Steve smiled and placed a large bowl of fruit salad and a huge glass of orange juice in front of Tony. Tony eyed the orange juice suspiciously.

 

Steve shrugged. “Nothing really, I felt like cooking.”

 

The grumbling of Tony's stomach was beginning to outweigh Tony's hesitation and confusion. Tony took in a deep sniff and his stomach made it known loud and clear that Tony had better things to be doing then worrying, like eating whatever smelled so good.

 

As soon as the first bite of spinach omelet hit Tony's tongue, he realized he wasn't just hungry. He was ravenous. A few bites later he was gulping down orange juice to quench his thirst. Later, as he scooped a second portion of fruit salad to his plate, Tony paused and looked up at Steve with dismay.

 

“I guess I was hungry?”

 

Steve smiled and reached over to top off Tony's glass of orange juice. “It is a good thing I made you take a break and to eat then.”

 

Tony eyed the glass. No wonder he wasn't making any headway. “I'm never going to finish it if you keep doing that.”

 

Steve opened his mouth and ate a bite of his own omelet pointedly. Tony pulled the glass closer to him and out of Steve's reach. Steve smirked and merely took another bite. Eating at a slower pace, Tony kept an eye on Steve, prepared to block him if he tried to top off Tony's glass again.

 

As he chewed, Tony started paying more attention to the table. Steve had his own bowl of fruit salad. While technically Steve was feeding him lunch and breakfast, Tony had more than enough to eat with just the omelet and bacon. Did Steve really expect Tony to eat a whole bowl of fruit salad by himself? Glancing at his plate, Tony realized he'd already finished off his omelet and half the bowl of salad. There weren't even any crumbs of the bacon left. Okay, so maybe Steve was right; he should have eaten something sooner.

 

Tony munched on some melon as he studied Steve. There were dark smudges under Steve's eyes. Was Steve having troubles with night terrors again?

 

“Not sleeping well?”

 

Steve glanced up at Tony and shrugged. “You know how it is, dreams.” Steve's tone was careless.

 

Tony tapped his fork against the edge of the plate. Not night terrors then. It looked like Steve was having his own trouble with dreams. Tony carefully put his fork down as an image of blue eyes and fangs floated up from Tony's subconscious.

 

“You want to talk about it?”

 

Steve shrugged and didn't even pause in his eating.

 

Tony ate a grape to cover his reaction to the image of himself clinging to those shoulders. It didn't help. Another fragment of the dream surfaced and with it the feel of Steve's fingers in Tony's mouth stroking his tongue.

 

Tony put his fork down and patted his mouth with the napkin. So, it turned out that Steve had in fact been the lover he'd dreamed about last night. Tony drank some more of the orange juice when Steve spoke with forced casualness.

 

“Just some ominous figures looking down at me. I feel like I should know them, but there's nothing concrete.”

 

Tony's heart skipped. He continued to hold the glass up to his face, hiding his mouth. That didn't sound good. Was Steve subconsciously remembering the Illuminati erasing his memories?

 

Tony loosened the tight grip on his glass. No, he'd been dwelling too much on his own guilt. Dreams weren't memories and Steve had plenty of fodder in his life for bad dreams. Stephen had locked all those memories firmly away. Next Tony would be thinking he'd really had sex with a vampire.

 

Steve was looking down pensively at his plate. His eyes were haunted and his fork was pushing his food into neat little lines.

 

That would not do. Steve was a champion brooder. Tony puts the glass down and met Steve's eyes. “I had a dream like that. Except it wasn't about ominous figures,” Tony's smirk turned lascivious, “it was about sex.”

 

Steve's head jerked up and his hand tightened around his fork. There was something in his eyes that Tony couldn't quite place, but they definitely were alert now and focused on him.

 

Tony rubbed his neck and Steve's eyes ramped up in intensity as they followed the motion of Tony's fingers. While the weight of Steve's gaze made Tony feel all warm inside and happy, Tony couldn't help feeling Steve knew who Tony had been dreaming of.

 

“The things she did with her mouth,” Tony smirked at Steve, “and her thighs, so firm and strong enough to squeeze the breath out of you. She could loom over me anytime.” Tony's words dragged Steve's attention from his neck and softened the intensity of his gaze. “I bet your hands would have fitted perfectly on her hips. Maybe you just needed to pull their cloaks off and you could've had a nice orgy last night instead.”

 

The strange tenseness drained out of Steve and he rolled his eyes as he relaxed back in his chair. “I really doubt that would've work. My dream wasn't anything like yours.” There was a note of exasperation in Steve's voice. The corner of Steve's mouths quirked and Tony knew he was more amused than annoyed.

 

Tony shook his fork at Steve. “They are both creations of the noise of our subconscious. Sometimes they mean something and sometimes they're just random images and thoughts jumbled together.” Tony popped a grape in his mouth and crunched it. “My dream could be telling me I need to get laid, but honestly I've got nothing to worry about in that regard. Beautiful women line up to get into my bed.”

 

Steve's mouth turned down slightly. His brow wrinkled and there was a glimmer of resentment in his eyes. For a moment, Tony thought Steve was jealous, then he realized he was projecting his own desires on to Steve. Steve _wasn't_ interested in Tony. It was probably the thought of Tony having all that free time.

 

Tony rolled his eyes and spread his arms wide. “I'm sure you've noticed them with _all_ the time I've been spending in bed. I've no clue how I manage to get everything else done.”

 

Steve let out a huff. His face relaxed, but his eyes were still troubled. Not with Tony, though. Steve was annoyed at himself.

 

“The point is, more likely than not, that your dream was just a dream.” Tony punctuated his words by pointing his fork at Steve.

 

There was a trace of guilt in Steve's voice. “So, you're saying I shouldn't dwell on it since it wasn't real.”

 

Tony sighed. He put his fork down and gentled his voice. “No, what I'm saying is that you don't need to chase after it. The feelings you had during the dream were _real._ They may stick with you and bother you, but the events didn't really happen. It's just noise from your subconscious.”

 

Steve breathed out. “Right, it didn't happen.” He buried his face in his hands. “I just need to get over it.”

 

Tony's mouth twitched in irritation. Now, Steve was back to brooding, that wasn't what he intended at all. Some of the irritation showed in his voice. “I'm not telling you to get over it. These ominous figures of yours, they aren't something you need to fight to remember. So, stop beating yourself up for not remembering something that didn't happen.” Too bad Tony couldn't take his own advice. He plastered a reassuring smile on his face. “Expend your energy into doing something--” Steve's hand had come up as Tony had been talking and he returned Tony's smile, but that wasn't what made Tony stop.

 

No, it was Steve's large hand running through his own hair as he had sat up. A visceral chill had traveled through Tony and he remembered. He remembered that hand in his hair, yanking his head back and Steve's head was buried in his neck. It had hurt. Just like his scalp had hurt all day and the sheets had been torn. Tony felt the blood drain from his face and he started to tremble.

 

Steve was getting up, moving towards him, his face full of concern. “Tony?”

 

Tony felt hollowed out, he had never realized how empty he felt until he remembered–remembered how much Steve loved him. Memories of dates, nights spent together, their first kiss, and laughing together tumbled through Tony's mind. Tony's hand came up to touch his throat. There was nothing there, not even a mark. Tony's voice broke. He didn't understand. Steve loved him, but... “Steve?”

 

Steve cursed and then he was there. His hand taking Tony's chin and tilting Tony's head up until their eyes met. His vivid azure eyes were deeper and brighter than they'd ever been before. Tony's brow wrinkled. He's never seen Steve's eyes do that before and yet, he knew those eyes.

 

Steve's voice was soft and gentle, like he was talking to hurt child or wounded animal, “It's okay. I'm here.” He stroked Tony's cheek and Tony couldn't help but lean into it. He wanted to close his eyes and savor the feeling, but Steve's eyes were more important.

 

Tony licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak. “Steve, I--” Steve's finger rested gently on Tony's lips, stopping his words.

 

Tony couldn't concentrate. The knowledge that Steve loved him that Steve would continue loving him rushed through him. There was no denying it, no protecting himself from the knowledge. It knocked down walls, destroyed doubts and chased away self loathing. It sunk into his soul, curled around him and made him feel a contentment--a _happiness_ he'd never felt before. This gift from Steve changed everything. He'd do anything to make Steve feel happy in return.

 

Tony gazed up into Steve's eyes adoringly. Steve was petting Tony's hair, but he looked so sad. Tony reached up to Steve, determined to make that sadness go away. Steve caught Tony's hand gently, never breaking eye contact.

 

“Tony, forget.” Steve's voice curled inside him like it was alive. Tony had a brief feeling that something was wrong before his mind stilled and all thought drained way.

 

“You are your own person. We're just friends.” Each sentence reverberated through Tony, bending his reality. Steve's eyes were wet and he was gently caressing Tony's cheeks. “I never bit you. I'm not your master. You don't have to do what I say.”

 

Tony made a whimper of distress as it all drained away. The memories of them getting together, Tony convincing Steve it was okay to bite him, his joy when Steve finally bit him, and Steve's despair. Steve's voice locked them all up and buried their bond, leaving Tony empty and hollow.

 

Tears began to stream down his face. Steve wiped them away. His voice was rough with his own distress as he continued.

 

“This never happened. It was all a fantasy, a dream. You belong to yourself, you aren't mine.”

 

Steve leaned forward, breaking eye contact and kissing the top of Tony's head, banishing the ache from the night before.

 

Steve's voice broke as he pulled away. “We don't love each other that way. Our relationship is that of close friends. Nothing more.”

 

Tony blinked and trailed off as he lost his train of thought. Steve's chair was empty. Confused, he turned and saw Steve walking briskly away with Tony's dirty dishes. Tony had been so caught up in himself that he hadn't even noticed Steve get up.

 

Now, all the work he'd done to loosen Steve up had gone to waste, he looked worse than before. His shoulders were tense and his back was rigid with distress.

“Sorry, I got a little caught up in the sound of my voice.” Tony rubbed his neck again and plastered an easy smile on his face.

 

He hadn't needed to have bother. Steve didn't even turn to look as he left. His voice was cold and distant. “I've got to go. Finish your juice.”

 

Tony sat, looking down at his glass frowning. He'd messed that up.

 

Finally, he picked the glass up, took it to the sink and poured the juice down the drain. He didn't understand why. Tony felt no desire to ignore Steve's words. He'd actually wanted to finish the glass. Yet here he was, pouring it down the sink as his eyes burned and chest ached.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a while ago for [Iloome's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/iloome) birthday, but I hadn't put it up for public consumption until now.
> 
> If I missed any warnings or tagging something, please let me know.


End file.
